Four Poems by Kushal Poddar

 

Constipation 

More and more I remember 

my mother's words, believe 

that the bowels move the world. 

Everything comes downs to it.

 

This morning I emerge elegant

from our aged toilet, brew some

daybreak dark and dip a faux croissant

in its pool and nod 

to my gardening neighbour who tries 

to call his son. What is the time in Japan? 

His face bloats; expressions 

look constipated. A fly darts 

around his yard.

 

The Old Rat I Trap Every Night 

 

An old rat, knows all the tricks,

forgets, stumbles in the trap

again, shrieks as I release it

to its fate.

 

A small cloud of crows passes.

The vermin runs for some shade.

Shadows meditate. The season of harvest

brings a sage 

 

down from his mute mountain.

He knocks on every door, asks for ration.

I pour gloaming into his tote

and question about the rat's omen.

He says,

 

"A rat is the sign of a rat,

of life, aging and death, begging for food

and stealing when ignored."

 

 

Maru-uzu-mon

 

A man turns in his sleep 

on his belly, coughs and spits

in the dirt.

His hands, elbows and his knees,

all bare and browned,

show the marks of the garden.

A dog grants a squirrel half a day,

curls beside him.

 

With an invisible rake I comb

the park, draw maru-uzu-mon

around the piscina of dreams.

 

Animacy

 

Rust borrows the car for a joyride

and corrodes the engine 

at first and then the body.

Time remains parked

by the pavement. 

 

A friend, an amateur fisherman,

sells me his last catch,

asks me about the car.

No one knows about 

any ownership here.

 

In this block we live,

disintegrate and resuscitate.

We possess some dwelling, depart

and become a part of the inanimates. 

 

I tell my friend that 

he should not sell a fish if 

he calls his hunt a hobby.

He scratches his chin for an answer.

 

Autumn covers the metal.
As we stand still
the gills of the fish bob up and down.
We realise - the fish has wings
when it flies away from my grip.

Kushal Poddar - The author of 'Postmarked Quarantine' has eight books to his credit. He is a journalist, father, and the editor of 'Words Surfacing’. His works have been translated into twelve languages, published across the globe. 

Twitter- https://twitter.com/Kushalpoe